


A Problem for Later

by 0Rocky41_7



Series: Dancing Naked in the Moonlight [8]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: 14daysdalovers, F/M, Flirting, Making Out, Purple Hawke (Dragon Age), Rogue Hawke (Dragon Age), Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:02:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29242521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0Rocky41_7/pseuds/0Rocky41_7
Summary: If the first enchanter has the gall to be so distracting, the least he could do is pay attention when Hawke is around.
Relationships: Female Hawke/Orsino (Dragon Age), Hawke/Orsino (Dragon Age)
Series: Dancing Naked in the Moonlight [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1511585
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	A Problem for Later

**Author's Note:**

> For the tumblr event "14daysDAlovers" prompt 5: "Blushing"
> 
> In Orsino's WoT entry, he wears black nail polish, and I refuse to accept this as anything but the highest canon. Also, I realized I had never done one of these from Hawke's POV which is a CRIME, partly because I think Orsino comes off a lot smoother when you're not party to his internal anxieties XD
> 
> See more about Hawke on her [tumblr tag](https://imakemywings.tumblr.com/tagged/theodora%20hawke).

“If you don’t start paying attention to me, I’m going to have to start taking things off.”

Hawke’s announcement came apropos of nothing, and accompanied by a balled-up bit of vellum thrown at the first enchanter’s desk. He raised his eyes to her, silently chiding her immaturity, but Hawke was not having it that day, nor did she find it terribly convincing at the best of times. He dealt with too many apprentices to be truly surprised by even her most childish behavior. And after the displays of depravity far gone even by Lowtown standard that she’d seen that week, she needed more of a distraction than she was getting.

And it wasn’t _fair_ that Orsino was so distracting to her. This had already gone so much further than Hawke had meant it too, but she couldn’t stop herself anymore than she could halt a runaway carriage (and the first enchanter wasn’t in the habit of turning her away—he’d had his chance, when she backed off after the first kiss, and instead he had practically dragged her across his desk for another).

The least he could do was pay attention to her when she made it to his office.

“Is that supposed to be a _discouragement_?” he asked, with that reproving look. His voice rolled down Hawke’s spine and a languid smirk spread across her face. She threw a leg up over the arm of the chair she was sitting in, by the row of bookshelves to the left of his desk. Perhaps the balance to Orsino being so distracting to Hawke was the he also seemed to bring out her most insouciant behavior, usually to his own detriment.

“A test,” she proposed. “How many things can I take off before I become more interesting than the latest memos from whatever senior enchanter has a gripe now? Hm…” She pretended to consider, and watched Orsino’s eyes flick between the parchment and her.

“I’ve already passed my Harrowing, Champion.” Hawke’s smirk widened, and she slapped both feet firmly on the floor to lean forward with her elbows on her knees, balling up another discarded bit of vellum, as the first enchanter feigned to return his attention to what he’d been doing.

“O, are you comparing me to a _desire demon_?” she asked with a toothy grin.

“I am _suggesting_ I have experienced more difficult tests than what you have to offer,” he said, without looking up.

“Tch! You’re hurting my feelings,” she cooed, getting to her feet. Now he was just _playing_ —if he wanted her to go, he’d have said so. She stalked over to the desk, keeping her steps slow and clearly audible as she came up behind his chair. “I’m sure I can match whatever a desire demon could throw. And better, too…” She slid one hand over his, the one holding his quill, fingertips sliding over the soft fabric of his fingerless gloves, twining her fingers with his, “…because we do things _together_.” The last words came whispered in his ear, and when she had finished, she traced the tip of her nose against the blade of his ear, letting her breath blow over his neck.

Hawke was bold, but she’d never have gotten this far without Orsino’s tacit encouragement.

It was there even now, in the way his hand stilled under hers, the slight uptick in his breathing. The smell of old Circle books clung to him, as always, and had become as familiar to as the smells of her own home. Beneath it, lemon soap—a particular brand that Knight-Commander Meredith had declared far too extravagant, but which she had not yet been able to find a way to stop him from buying with Circle funds—and something else—possibly whatever was used to wash Circle robes.

“Come on,” she coaxed, gently prying his hand off the quill. “Play with me for a few minutes and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Is this your payback for last week’s gift?” Hawke was glad he couldn’t see her face now, and how she flushed. Idiot—she shouldn’t be _bringing_ him things, because they weren’t _together_ , they just fucked sometimes.

“That’s not how _gifts_ work, O.” She spread his fingers and rubbed her thumb over the nail. “Looks good though, doesn’t it? Even if it’s _not black_.” The temptation to poke fun at his initial response to the nail polish she had presented him with the week prior was too strong.

“It’s close enough,” he said, lifting their intertwined hands to examine his nails. “And when did you start with this _O_ business?” he asked, looking back, so that Hawke almost turned her face away, to make sure he couldn’t discern the heat in her cheeks, or the way her stomach twisted and jumped.

“What? You want me to go back to _first enchanter_?” she asked. “I do still like that one…at the right moment.” A crooked grin hitched up on her face and she gave him a knowing look.

“I’m just trying to pick apart your aversion to my name,” he replied with an amused quirk of his lips, not letting her get to him even with a call-back to using his title while sweating between the sheets.

“It’s a nickname!”

“It’s a letter.”

“ _Your_ letter,” she said. “If you don’t like it, I can come up with something else, _Orsino_ ,” she went on, leaning into his space, hoping that didn’t sound as ridiculous as it felt.

There was a hooded look in his eyes, and she noted he was not even trying to return to his work. He ran his thumb over her fingers, then lifted his free hand to brush her bangs away from her eyes, moving his face closer to hers, lips slightly parted, _almost_ as if to kiss her.

“I think I can live with what you’ve decided on, _Adora_ ,” he said.

“Can’t believe I told you that story,” she grumbled, trying to ignore the way the sound of it, in his smooth, even timbre, breathed life into a coal of heat in her chest.

“And I can’t believe I’ve been _nicknamed_ by the Champion of Kirkwall.”

“Give thanks for how the Champion smiles on you,” she said grandly, freeing her hand to sweep his work aside and take a seat on his desk, firmly planting a boot on either side of his knees before he could protest.

“How should I give thanks?” he asked, lifting those brilliant green eyes to her face. “On my knees?”

_Fuck_ , was all she thought, as the heat turned liquid, melting down from her chest to pool in her gut. For a moment, he’d knocked any sensible—let alone _witty_ —reply out of her head, and she had to gather herself to respond.

“However you feel so led,” she replied smartly, and Orsino rose to his feet to stand between her legs, ghosting his hands up her thighs, holding her gaze while he leaned in, still not quite kissing her, but near enough she could feel the warmth of his breath as his fingers grazed over her hips. “I hope you did better than this at your Harrowing, first enchanter,” she said with another flash of that wolfish grin.

“Are you telling me to stop?” he asked, though she knew from the look on his face as he lifted his eyes to hers that he already knew the answer to that.

“Not even close,” she replied. “I’m just seeing how long we’ll go before you give me some sugar.” Orsino huffed through his nose, and a smile spread irresistibly across his face.

“Ask me then,” he said.

“First enchanter,” she said, in that faux breathless voice she used when she made fun of him by playing the hapless apprentice, “I think I’ll just _die_ if you don’t give me a taste of your lips.” He was trying not to laugh, Hawke could tell, and a grin pulled at her mouth.

“No nicknames, now?” he said.

“Andraste’s ass, O,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. “Give me a kiss before I drop dead of old age.” He snorted, but leaned in to give her what she wanted, and Hawke blamed her long wait for the way she immediately squirmed on the desk to press flat against him, enjoying the firmness of his slender hips between her thighs, and the smell of that lemon soap wreathing around her head.

When they drew apart, she could tell her mouth was getting ready to say something stupid, but when she met his eyes, whatever it was died a mercifully quick death, overtaken by a kind of wonder at the way he studied her face, like he was observing a work of art, doing that thing where he made her feel far more exposed than when she was sprawled half-dressed over his desk. Then he kissed her again, and Hawke couldn’t resist cupping his face between her hands, his cheeks, his jaw, delicate against the rough callouses on her fingers and palms; or the way her legs squeezed tighter around him, which was probably the drive behind the way his teeth nipped at her lower lip, and that was _definitely_ why she let that moan escape into Orsino’s kiss.

This time, when she caught sight of his eyes again, his pupils had dilated in that way that let her _know_ she had his attention in full. This time, it was Hawke who closed the distance without waiting for words, and this kiss was open-mouthed and unabashed in its desire. Orsino responded with a low noise of approval, leaning up into it, and letting Hawke’s tongue past his lips. One hand braced against her lower back, and Hawke arched against him, tilting her head so as to deepen the kiss better.

“Lowtown was so boring,” Hawke said, which was to say _I missed you_. Lowtown had not been _boring_ so much as _horrifying on a deeply spiritual level_.

“It must have been,” Orsino replied, slightly breathless himself, with a delightful color in his pale face. He stroked her hair behind one ear, while his other hand gripped her thigh, and Hawke resisted, for the moment, the urge to hook her ankles together behind him and trap him there. Orsino had magic, but Hawke would outdo him in physical strength any day.

Winding her arms back around his neck, Hawke drew in close, delighting in the eager beat of her heart, and the heat of Orsino’s breath against her mouth.

“So, you gonna entertain me, or what?”

“I suppose I must, if I ever want to get back to work.” There was a hint of a smile on his face before they moved together again, silencing any further words. Orsino groaned into her mouth and Hawke couldn’t _help_ the way her hips jerked automatically against his, pressing with too much deliberation to be unpracticed. They had played this game before. Then Orsino’s hands were on her back again, pulling her as tightly to him as he could, and Hawke responded by moving her hands down to his ass, beneath the sweep of his outer robe. She nibbled at his lip and heard his breath catch. Just as a perusing hand caressed around his lovely, narrow waist, and began to slide between his legs, wanting to feel the promise of his arousal, feel how it stirred the heat at her core, there was a staccato knock at the door, and Orsino swore quietly as he pulled away from her, leaving her fingers just barely touching him.

“First enchanter!” came the cry from the other side of the door.

“Yes?” he called.

“First enchanter!” That voice sounded too _young_ to be a templar. “Enchanter Oda needs your help at once! She’s up in the second-floor library and there’s been a problem with the stasis charm!” Orsino closed his eyes, while Hawke grinned even in her disappointment.

“Duty calls,” she said. “Go be the hero.”

“More like the maid,” he complained quietly. Raising his voice, he called to the apprentice outside, “I’ll be right there.” With a sigh, he leaned back from Hawke. “Well. I hope this satisfies you for the time being.”

“If it doesn’t,” she said, “will your door be unlocked tonight?” When she saw the pleased look budding on his face, she tilted her head to give him one last warm, inviting kiss. “Might have time for a visit. Depends on how many drinks Varric’s buying me tonight.”

“Congratulations, Hawke,” he whispered. “You’ve ensured I shall get _nothing_ done at all today.” Hawke laughed, never mind Orsino giving her a _look_ for her to quiet down, and be mindful of the guest in the hall.

“The work of a Champion is never done,” she said, stepping up onto one of the lower bookshelves to unlatch a window.

“If you ever feel in the mood to take up some of mine…”

“Ah, but then who would be your stress-relief, first enchanter?” Hawke tsked as she climbed through the window. “See you ‘round, O.”

“Take care, Hawke.” Despite the terrible inconvenience of their _coitus interruptus_ , Hawke found her mind lingering on the brush of Orsino’s hands through her hair, and the relaxed tone that he addressed her with lately, returning again and again to the quiet warmth these thoughts granted her, making her _far_ too prone to gazing off into the distance and ignoring the world around her.

Well, _that_ surely couldn’t turn into a problem.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a headcanon that Orsino's developed fairly extravagant tastes and it drives Meredith up the wall because he uses the Circle funds for these purchases and she hasn't found a regulation or law to stop him yet, and his stance is that if he's going to be stuck in the Circle, he'll at least be stuck there wearing imported silk pajamas, so they are constantly butting heads over the Circle finances as well.
> 
> [On tumblr](https://imakemywings.tumblr.com/post/642385898023059456/i-actually-did-it-i-wrote-something-for) | On Pillowfort
> 
> If you liked this, you might also like [Contentment](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16057565) by PennyForTheGuy!


End file.
